555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.
Showing posts with label animal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label animal. Show all posts

Sunday, 5 January 2014

"Jim's Tale" (Entry 553)

This is the tattered tale of a cat called Jim. 
He was ragged and scared and painfully thin. 
It started when his owners bought a kitten that year. 
Soon Jim was forgotten, unwanted, thrown out on torn ear. 
Spent his time, touring bins, but they offer a little picking. 
If seen by the humans, he cowered away from a kicking. 

Shaken and frozen, famished day and night. 
Poor moggy Jim lived out his plight. 
Then one fateful eve, when this destitute kitty was near his end. 
He limped to a warm spot for this time to spend. 
Upon a warm grate, he curled up his scrawny lot,
And drifted into dreams right there on the spot. 

He dreamt of smiling faces and cuddles and bowls of fish,
He dreamt of strokes, a fully warm belly, and his own milk dish. 
He dreamt of being lifted and floating in the air,
He dreamt of loud music, coloured lights and an red armchair. 
On and on, as he slept, the perfect dream persisted,
Then Jim realised he was awake, this wondrous place existed!

For he had found rest beside the stage door,
The theatre caretaker taking him in as rain began to pour. 
Slowly, he nursed Jim back to life,
Fed him, cleaned him, no more strife. 
"It's good to see you alert, ma old fella,
It was touch and go there, I'll tells ya!"

"This is your home now. You'll be safe, warm and fed." Frank the caretaker told him. 
"Anyone who finds their way to our door, will never be out on a limb."
"But you'll need to earn yourself a wage. 
By greeting people, and keeping rats from the stage."
Frank smiled and stroked the furry face. "What you think on that?"
Jim blinked and purred. A whole new start. He was now a Theatre Cat! 

Thursday, 2 January 2014

"Tranquil after the Tempest" (Entry 551)

Tranquil after the tempest.  
Clear and distant. 
World in focus.
Crows call and crowd on cobbled beach. 
Pebbles tumbled like peanuts in a forlorn drunk's bar bowl. 
Ducks fly in haphazard formation,
To smack onto mucky water.
Squadron permission to land - dive into arrival, flap, slap, splash then rest. 
Starlings flit, too many to count
Are they really there?
As they skim sea's surface,
Playing havoc with the eyes,
Dark specks above white wave flecks,
Seeming to exist in numerous realms. 
Spectral dots in spacial dimension. 
Lone seagull fights for territory 
On surf and turf. He can hold his own. 
Calm after the storm?
No fear!
Life goes on, even here. 


Thursday, 31 October 2013

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Sunday, 28 April 2013

"Cat's Night Patrol" (Entry 302)

Darkness drapes her sharp shoulders,
only to be lifted by spotlit circles from overhead lamps.
These pavements, her stage.
The cold seeps through cushioned pads
hardened by time and life.
She take in her circuit,
her territory,
to notice new invading sights and
telling scents of unknown beings,
friend or foe.

The wind lifts,
sending a torrent of leaves to
tear from the branches and
swoop, as seagulls, around her.
With the gust, a cry is carried.
She flinches to a pause.
To hold as still as unmossed stone,
as silent and unmoved as
that lonely naked rock.
Eyes widen,
pinpointing any scuttle or scamper.
Ears rotate,
senses performing better than
any radar.

All is fine.
All is quiet.
As it should be.
Satisfied, she turns,
jumps the wooden fence
at the spot she knows
is easiest.
Across damp lawn to
enter through her own private door.

She shakes the night from her fur to
curl up,
content in the knowledge that
her solitary streets stay safe.

Thursday, 25 April 2013

"Snail" (Entry 296)


The snail crunched under her stiff shop-new sandals.
The girl picked up her foot slowly,
To star at the squashed grey gel
Oozing and spreading around the splinted shell.
A broken bad egg.

She turned to watch her mother who,
Through open french doors,
Sand along to the radio as 
She washed the blue and white striped breakfast crockery.
Her eye-lashes fluttered, as she looked up,
Feeling her daughter’s gaze upon her.
She smiled and waved a soap-sudsed hand
And returned to her task.

The girl gently rolled her foot over the murder
And cracked the shell further,
Satisfied in the smash and the sound,
She went in search of another snail.

Monday, 4 February 2013

"Unmarked Place Gives Chase" (Entry 218)

Graffiti rusted shutters shout,
"GO AWAY!"
Don't stop! You'll never get away!
Save us! Don't save us! Take us with you!
Lone manky hound coughs a whiney howl
puzzled by your sight.
An unnamed village that wants to stay hidden.
Forgotten as soon as you pass.

Friday, 26 October 2012

"Nap" (Entry 118)

Dip into tap. Time to take a nap.
The cat lapped at the sap of life.
Nip at the cap to rap on this 'n' that.
Ain't it fab?